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So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.


The Profile


Zanzibar
Age. 33
Gender. Female
Ethnicity. that of my father and his father before him
Location Cherry Hills Vil, CO
School. Other
» More info.
The World









The Link To Zanzibar's Past
This is my page in the beloved art community that my sister got me into:

Samarinda

Extra points for people who know what Samarinda is.
The Phases of the Moon Module
CURRENT MOON
Croc Hunter/Combat Wombat
My hero(s)
Only My Favorite Baseball Player EVER


Aw, Larry Walker, how I loved thee.
The Schedule
M: Science and Exploration
T: Cook a nice dinner
W: PARKOUR!
Th: Parties, movies, dinners
F: Picnics, the Louvre
S: Read books, go for walks, PARKOUR
Su: Philosophy, Religion
The Reading List
This list starts Summer 2006
A Crocodile on the Sandbank
Looking Backwards
Wild Swans
Exodus
1984
Tales of the Alhambra (in progress)
Dark Lord of Derkholm
Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?
The Lost Years of Merlin
Harry Potter a l'ecole des sorciers (in progress)
Atlas Shrugged (in progress)
Uglies
Pretties
Specials
A Long Way Gone (story of a boy soldier in Sierra Leone- met the author! w00t!)
The Eye of the World: Book One of the Wheel of Time
From Magma to Tephra (in progress)
Lady Chatterley's Lover
Harry Potter 7
The No. 1 Lady's Detective Agency
Introduction to Planetary Volcanism
A Child Called "It"
Pompeii
Is Multi-Culturalism Bad for Women?
Americans in Southeast Asia: Roots of Commitment (in progress)
What's So Great About Christianity?
Aeolian Geomorphology
Aeolian Dust and Dust Deposits
The City of Ember
The People of Sparks
Cube Route
When I was in Cuba, I was a German Shepard
Bound
The Golden Compass
Clan of the Cave Bear
The 9/11 Commission Report (2nd time through, graphic novel format this time, ip)
The Incredible Shrinking Man
Twilight
Eclipse
New Moon
Breaking Dawn
Armageddon's Children
The Elves of Cintra
The Gypsy Morph
Animorphs #23: The Pretender
Animorphs #25: The Extreme
Animorphs #26: The Attack
Crucial Conversations
A Journey to the Center of the Earth
A Great and Terrible Beauty
The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian
Dandelion Wine
To Sir, With Love
London Calling
Watership Down
The Invisible
Alice in Wonderland
Through the Looking Glass
20,000 Leagues Under the Sea
The Host
The Hunger Games
Catching Fire
Shadows and Strongholds
The Jungle Book
Beatrice and Virgil
Infidel
Neuromancer
The Help
Flip
Zion Andrews
The Unit
Princess
Quantum Brain
The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks
No One Ever Told Us We Were Defeated
Delirium
Memento Nora
Robopocalypse
The Name of the Wind
The Terror
Sister
Tao Te Ching
What Paul Meant
Lao Tzu and Taoism
Libyan Sands
Sand and Sandstones
Lost Christianites: The Battles for Scripture and the Faiths We Never Knew
The Science of God
Calculating God
Great Contemporaries, by Winston Churchill
City of Bones
Around the World in 80 Days, by Jules Verne
Divergent
Stranger in a Strange Land
The Old Man and the Sea
Flowers for Algernon
Au Bonheur des Ogres
The Martian
The Road to Serfdom
De La Terre เ la Lune (ip)
In the Light of What We Know
Devil in the White City
2312
The First Fifteen Lives of Harry August
Red Mars
How to Be a Good Wife
A Mote in God's Eye


want to read: Last Hunger Games Book, Honeybee Democracy, The Bell Jar
The Juanes Module


Juanes just needed his own mod. Who can disagree.
Life, webbed
Saturday. 9.10.05 1:49 pm
I wonder why people like whales so much.

Like when whales beach themselves near a village, all the people in the village will go out there and try to keep them wet all night long and try to work together to push them back into the sea. Why is that?

Do they just not want rotting whale flesh on the beach near their village? They could eat it before it got rotten, if they wanted. They could be like those dumb people who blew up the whale with the bomb and then bits of whale rained on the town for like 3 hours (oops). But no, I think they really feel for these whales and they want them to live.... But what have whales ever done for us?

It seems like life, as cruel to it is to other forms of life most of the time, deep down feels this bond with everything else alive. So sometimes baby humans are raised by wolves (actually happened at least once!) and sometimes drowning people are saved by whales and lots of times humans take such pity on dying baby birds and foxes with broken legs and beached whales that they commit some selfless act in order to try and make things right.
Go us.

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when brochures make you think
Thursday. 9.8.05 4:59 pm
They have an internship where you get to work with the severely mentally ill. I know a lot of people who would really freak out if they had to do that, but I think I would find it really interesting. Not in a clinical way, like the way my friend Jo drills holes into rats' heads and injects them with q-dots to label neurons and then ties their hands and feet to the table and makes a slit in their bellies to cut their aortas and replace their blood with formaldehyde before cutting out their brains.... (now that's a job that is very interesting to hear about but I couldn't have)... but in a really soul-searching/life philosophy kind of interesting way.
Severely mental ill people raise an interesting question: Is all of who you are (your personality, your character) wrapped up in the neuron pathways of the brain, and thus liable to change as your brain becomes damaged? Or is there a separate entity of You, your soul, which remains unchanged behind all the malfunctioning and the hallucenating and personality changes: someone unmistakably and unmutably You, however far you may have wandered?
I have a lot of compassion for the mentally ill, I think many people in this world are affected to various degrees. I wish people could think of these various degrees of mental illness like the difference between having a broken toe (about which nothing can really be done but it hurts anyway, makes life a little tiny bit harder) to chronic arthritis (it reoccurs and limits you but your life isn't over) to highly contagious or life-threatening (those who are a danger to themselves or others).
But people don't think of it that way. They get freaked out.

I wonder if that is because they also want to believe that there is a part of being, a soul, that cannot change. That your whole personality isn't governed by electronic impulses and imbalances of chemistry, but something completely above and unaffected by these mundane processes of science. When they see someone who has changed, who is acting differently, I think they start to question that belief.

But this is what I believe: I believe that somewhere inside you is your Soul. Your soul is not only you, but it a place you share with God. Your Soul is the You that God knows you to be, despite your pretenses and your mistakes and the airs you put on for others around you. When mental illness strikes, that part is not affected. The bodily you, she or he who lives right behind your eyes in your brain, may be having a hard time contacting the Soul You, who lives inside your ribcage around your heart like a glowing orb, (who knows where it is, it is more of a metaphysical entity), but the Soul You is still there. Without You, your personality may change, but it is really only the outward manifestations of your personality that others can see that are changing. It's like your brain is trying to contact your soul, but its radio is failing. Sometimes all it hears is static. Sometimes it hears other voices, voices of other stations. At first it knows these voices are strangers, it doesn't sound very much like they soul they know they have. But then after a while, the static is frightening. They don't like switching the dial, back and forth, looking for what they know, only sometimes finding it. It is incredibly frustrating. Some are consumed by their frustrations. Sometimes it is because they can't stand being out of touch with their souls.

Other times it is because they keep telling others that something is wrong and nobody is listening. Some don't want to tell others at all because they know the others don't want to hear it. They are ashamed. They are in pain and they are frightened but they can't get help because they are ashamed.

Some take the alternate route... if their connection with their soul is full of static, they will listen to a clearer station, those other voices. How could this station be bad, or even a true stranger, when nobody but the soul with its good and familiar intentions has ever contacted them on this radio before?

But the message that the station is broadcasting may not be a good thing at all.

So no, I don't think mental illness is just like having cancer or just like having a broken hand. It could be as simple as that and soon get better, like certain kinds of depression. I do think that advances in modern medicine and psychiatry, leading to better understanding of the brain (facilitated by Jo and her rats) can give people some of the help they need to rebuild their "radio". But I think it is much more scary than those other illnesses, because while you love and need and continuously use your body, even more often do you channel your soul through your mind. To be without use of your body is frightening, but you have many people there to help you. You have no need to be ashamed. But to have a malfunction in your mind- that struggle is dark, frightening,and plagued with guilt and shame.

On that path, people are most often traveling alone.

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it is amazing how much life can suck sometimes
Tuesday. 9.6.05 8:03 pm
It takes a second to fall in love
and a lifetime to know what love is

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Siren of the Sea
Tuesday. 9.6.05 12:24 pm
All awash in roiling foam
Was the cave that made the mermaid's home
Lived starfish, urchins and otters there
and sea weed streamers for the mermaid's hair

By day a seal's company does the mermaid keep
By night she sleeps a dreamless sleep
The tide eases out like mermaid sighs
The endless waves are mirrored in the mermaid's vacant eyes

The waves are high and they bite and tear
Any sailor who ventures to the mermaid's lair
He slowly drowns, there is no air
Among the seaweed chains of the mermaid's hair

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Sunday. 9.4.05 6:00 am
It's 4 am. I've been out, wandering the campus, looking for my roommate. She's missing. she's been puking. allegedly she is with 'chad'. As I stole though the dark campus, the normally absent starry sky straining its way through the overwhelming glow of nearby LA, I thought about how stupid it was to be out at this hour of the night by myself. Especially since this is the end of substance-free opening and everyone on the cmc campus is drunk and ready for action. There was a loud party or two still going on as I walked, far away but I could still hear every lyric of the song they were playing. I could hear an owl in the nearby trees. It reminded my of home. I could get raped, I told myself, paranoid as usual. I remembered that terrible feeling of fear that shadowed me so often while I was abroad. Reasonable fear, considering where I was. I had forgotten it; downplayed it when I replayed it in my mind. I was wearing flip-flops. It would be hard to run away. I wondered if I got raped while I was out looking for her if that would make her stop drinking so much. I wondered if that would be worth it. It's a null comparison because I don't think it would make her stop. I'm worried about her.
I couldn't find her.

I ended my own night very early, I drank a little tiny bit of rum, only because she wanted me too. That was a stupid reason. It took the good mood that I had been cultivating by hanging out with ranor all night and turned it emo, distant, and sad. I snuck away from the party only moments after having arrived and went home to read my geology text. yeah, I know, it's saturday night, but is that really more sad than what the rest of my friends did? They all drank, Lauren said, and they all became sad. All of us have spent the past week reveling in our happiness to be back in this place; tonight revealed our carefully suppressed sorrows. I'm still worried about my fish. He's got that swim bladder disorder. I think I ruptured it when I dropped his nalgene on the sidewalk. I had it by the lid and the thing that keeps the lid attached slipped off. He's so frustrated. It's all my fault. The internet said with time he may heal, but I have to deny him food: pretty much his only joy in the course of a day. And then there is that boy. He wrote and said he was sorry that my computer was broken. He's only sorry because it is inconvenient to him. I wasn't online so he thought I'd blocked him. That's why he was sorry. He didn't say he was sorry about my fish being sick. I love my fish; my computer is just a machine. Who cares if my computer is broken? People who really know me know that my fish means much more to me than anything like that.

But he never really knew me.

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Senior Year Starts
Saturday. 9.3.05 3:31 pm
Well, my computer is broken. Time for exile in the library. Life is complicated now. It seems like the opposite of freshman year. Instead of everyone getting together, everyone is breaking up. I don't want to get together with anyone, because at the end of the year I'll just have to break it off anyway. Sure, that means I miss out on 9+ months of possible good relationship time just because of a far-off inevitability, but I'm busy. I have stuff to do. Fellowships, grad school, thesis. I'd have to spend a lot of time ignoring/avoiding him to get everything done. The relationship probably wouldn't be good enough to be worth it anyway.

Seems like everybody's breaking up
Does anybody ever stay in love?





I think there is this inevitable period that people must go through when they realize that not everyone thinks as they do. Not everyone out there has the same code of honor. Not everyone out there has the same definition of a lie.
It is a harsh awakening to realize that people in this world are not ever completely good or completely evil, and sometimes it's very hard to separate the two. What if you know your friend to be a good person, and you like him very much, but you also know that he does evil things to other people which seem to be completely incongruous with his character as you know it? Do you berate him for his actions? Seems too preachy. Who am I to judge. Leave the judging to God. Do you try and change him? Seems too manipulative, and at the end, probably fruitless. People can't be changed. Do you cease being friends with him? Seems as if in that case you are abandoning him, he who could have been bettered is now left only to those who have no principles and the more he is with them, the more like them he will become. Do you continue to be his friend, keeping in the back of your mind his evil deeds and knowing that no matter what good friends you are, you should never completely trust him with your soul?
Ah, but a friendship without trust.......

........what kind of friendship is that?

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Tuesday. 8.23.05 11:56 am
If I were a dragon
I'd put my heart in a box
And put it away safely with my other priceless treasures

My fire and smoke would keep people away
And my scales would protect me if anyone got close

And deep in my cave I would be
Beautiful but Dangerous

for eternity Alone.

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Songs about Denver
Thursday. 8.18.05 12:27 am
School is finally over and it's time to start a life
To go and get a good job and start looking for a wife
You've got so many choices of places to move to
There are so many opportunities and things that you could do
So when you're looking for a city that fits you like a glove
If you want to find the perfect place to come and fall in love...

Pleeeease come to Denver
The sun shines here 300 days a year
And in the wintertime that pure white snow is always falling
Can't you hear those mountains, they are calling


Don't like the weather? Don't worry, it'll change
In summer you can tell the time from the afternoon rains
It's always beautiful out on the front range
Where the Rocky Mountains form a choir around the Queen City of the Plains...
They're singing

Pleeeease come to Denver
The sunshines here 300 days a year
And in the wintertime that pure white snow is falling
Can't you hear the mountains they are calling



there will be a last verse... I'll have to think of it later.

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